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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27225838">It's Hard To Take Your Own Advice</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TryingToScribble/pseuds/TryingToScribble'>TryingToScribble</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>ALL THE GAY, Cute, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Oblivious Aziraphale, humans are smart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 20:54:32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27225838</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TryingToScribble/pseuds/TryingToScribble</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I guess those in love can sense those in love."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>It's Hard To Take Your Own Advice</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Aziraphale sips at his tea and smiles to himself at the rich flavour. He doesn't notice that he wiggles in his seat a little, too. It isn't his favourite blend but it's quite lovely nonetheless, and miraculously he hasn't tried this particular one before, so he can't quite hide his delight.</p><p>It isn't just the tea that has him so happy about his current position, either. Even though he is waiting on a very late demon, he is waiting in a sweet little cafe surrounded by completely normal people going about their completely normal day. The fact that he can witness this after the supposed Armageddon still astonishes him sometimes.</p><p>He is, of course, aware of the other patrons and their conversations, but none so much as the couple sat beside him on the next table over. His eyes keep slipping to them without his permission but he can't really be blamed when he can sense so much emotion from them. It's almost like they have their own spectacular bubble of colour that the angel can't help but admire with a fond smile and a curious ear. He listens to their conversation knowing it is rude but entirely unable to stop himself the indulgence of human happiness.</p><p>The couple speak of nothing like it is their everything. One tells the other of their admittedly boring day while the other listens in rapture anyway. Then they each return the favour in kind. Aziraphale assumes it must be obvious to everyone that these two humans are meant to be.</p><p>One excuses themselves to the restroom with a quick "don't go anywhere." The other laughs shortly in a slightly nervous acceptance but as soon as they are out of sight there is a sigh. Aziraphale hears so much in that sigh and it hurts his heart to know the meaning so well. Perhaps it is clear to everyone but themselves as it too often is.</p><p>He cannot let it go.</p><p>"Hello," Aziraphale greets with a bright smile as he tilts his head in the direction of his neighbour.</p><p>"Er... Hi," comes the young woman's hesitant reply, almost phrased as a question.</p><p>"I'm sorry to intrude, my dear. I am sure it is absolutely none of my business but I fear I cannot help but offer the wisdom of an old soul." He taps his fingers against the table in a nervous manner despite the fact that he probably shouldn't have been able to learn a nervous tic in the first place.</p><p>The young woman looks like she's about to edge away in uncertainty. Aziraphale realises quickly that he quite definitely sounds like he's about to preach about sin or some other such nonsense. He cannot have that.</p><p>"Tell her," he clarifies quickly. Or, he thinks it's a clarification until he sees she still doesn't understand his intent.</p><p>"Tell her what?" The woman asks, a little stronger in her confusion.</p><p>"Why, tell her that you love her, of course."</p><p>She sputters around denial for a moment before stifling a groan, cutting her eyes to the toilets, and settling for, "How did you know?"</p><p>Aziraphale gives her a small knowing smile that makes his eyes crinkle. "I can sense love on anyone, dear."</p><p>That comment earns him another confused bunching of eyebrows but Aziraphale can see that she is thinking about it. He can only hope that these humans will grip free will with both hands to find happiness where a certain silly angel cannot. Even if he will never have quite the love he desires, he can certainly see that love in others and nudge them along in the right direction if they need it. </p><p>While he waits patiently for her to come to her own conclusion, Aziraphale catches a blur of red and black in his peripheral vision and looks up eagerly. His whole face lights up and he sits a little straighter with another barely there wiggle. His smile widens for a moment unchecked before he catches it and reigns himself in with deeply ingrained self restraint. He knows very well how his whole existence reacts to Crowley and he's been holding himself back for millennia. </p><p>"Oh."</p><p>The hint of wonder and realisation in the gasp distracts Aziraphale enough that he slips his eyes back to his neighbour. "Oh?"</p><p>The young woman smiles back at him with an almost shy, knowing look that Aziraphale really doesn't follow. He's not as good at hiding his feelings as he believes.</p><p>She shrugs and blushes, pointing a discrete finger at the approaching stranger.</p><p>"You sense love because you're in love."</p><p>Aziraphale knows that he must become the proverbial deer caught in the headlights at that. He knows he's in love but no one else is supposed to. Others knowing is dangerous. Not only that, he has long since learned that it could be the biggest threat to their lives. He forces himself to breathe and remember where he is. The young woman is not a threat, she is being as kind to him as he was attempting to be to her. He calms himself as Crowley crosses behind his chair to greet him. The demon offers him a smile disguised as a grimace so the angel smiles back, all the while keeping in mind his neighbour's eyes on them.</p><p>"Alright, Angel?"</p><p>As Crowley says it Aziraphale knows the young woman is jumping to conclusions that prove her observation. It doesn't matter that she is correct, it matters that she will use misread situations to prove her point. It matters because it hurts. It hurts because Aziraphale would give anything for the situation to be exactly what it sounds like.</p><p>"Quite alright, thank you." The angel answers politely. Nothing of his turmoil shows because it never does. "You are looking well yourself."</p><p>Crowley shrugs in answer.</p><p>"What are you having?" He waves a hand at Aziraphale's neglected tea cup.</p><p>"Oh!" Aziraphale exclaims. "My tea!" He had completely forgotten about it which is definitely not something he makes a habit of. He doesn't think before he flicks a wrist to reheat it and finish the last few mouthfuls. Luckily, the young woman doesn't seem to notice.</p><p>"Tea it is," Crowley nods and moves to fetch some more.</p><p>Aziraphale attempts to stop him with a wave of a hand that doesn't quite catch his elbow, and a few exasperated shouts of his name. He doesn't listen. Crowley saunters away to the counter anyway, and there is no doubt in Aziraphale's mind that Crowley is about to spoil him despite the constant protests on his part that he doesn't need pampering. Although he does enjoy it. Quite immensely. Even if he doesn't ever admit that aloud. He has admittedly taken advantage of the fact that Crowley knows anyway.</p><p>While the angel is again smiling to himself, easily lost in his thoughts, the young woman takes her turn to lean over to him slightly.</p><p>"Tell him," she says pointedly.</p><p>Aziraphale blushes and stutters in a reversal of the beginning of their conversation. He cannot tell Crowley for they have known each other for 6000 years and he couldn't possibly ruin his only friendship with unnecessary feelings. He cannot tell Crowley for even though they are on their own side now, he is still an angel and Crowley is still a demon which complicates their friendship, never mind a relationship. But more to the point, he cannot tell Crowley because Crowley doesn't feel that way and Aziraphale could not bear the heartache that would come with that inevitable denial. </p><p>Azirpahale can't say any of that out loud to himself, much less a human.</p><p>It turns out he doesn't need to, though, since the human is an intelligent woman and sees his struggle with empathy. "He loves you, too," she says gently.</p><p>The words sting because he wants to believe them but can't allow himself to. "No-" he begins to explain how she is mistaken but is interrupted.</p><p>"He does."</p><p>In any other circumstance Aziraphale would delight in her confidence.</p><p>"How can you know that?" The angel asks in a desperate whisper.</p><p>His fingers flex and clench reflexively with a different nervousness than before.</p><p>The woman spots her own friend returning and bites her lip, visibly thinking over her decision, before she tilts her head with a shy smile and says, "I guess those in love can sense those in love."</p><p>Aziraphale cannot help but smile at the completely smitten look the young woman no longer hides. She has clearly decided to take his advice and Aziraphale hides his nervousness at feeling obliged to follow suit behind the smile while Crowley also returns to sit opposite him. Crowley places a cup of tea before the angel on the table along with a plate holding a lovely piece of sponge cake that he had been eyeing earlier. If he hadn't had thousands of years to practice he would have blushed. Instead, he resists the urge to wiggle as he looks at his small gifts. Gestures, really. Although Crowley wouldn't call it anything other than temptation or explain away that he doesn't want to have to get up again if he wants it later.</p><p>On the next table, Aziraphale catches the young woman out of the corner of his eye as she places a hand over her partner's where it rests between them on the table. Her partner blushes, smiles, and turns her hand over.</p><p>Aziraphale looks up from the goodies on his table to see the young woman's delight. He swallows and turns back to Crowley. The demon is frowning at something on his phone which is clutched in one hand. The other hand, however, is left lay on the table. Aziraphale takes his chance and lays his hand over Crowley's before he loses his new found nerve.</p><p>Crowley stiffens immediately in every way but visibly. He stares at their hands for long enough that Aziraphale almost wishes the moment away. Then all at once Crowley is turning his hand over to link their fingers together and Aziraphale thinks he might explode. He glances up to catch Crowley smirking at their hands. The angel squeezes their fingers and Crowley looks up to be caught in his gaze. His smirk softens into a besotted look that Aziraphale has purposefully misinterpreted in the past. He can't find it in him to see it other than what it is in this moment, though. They sit in a mirror image of their neighbours at the next table, completely and utterly in love.</p>
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